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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498537">bloom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phancontent/pseuds/phancontent'>phancontent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dan Howell Is A Little Shit, Eventual Smut, Gay Dan Howell, Guitarist Dan, I really hate him here, M/M, Mutual Pining, Phil Lester Is A Sweetheart, and so cute, musician Phil, they're in a band</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phancontent/pseuds/phancontent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started 3 years ago, when PJ had this crazy idea. He thought a glam rock band in these times would be of public interest because the music industry is focused way too much in pop music. In a matter of months we already had a quite large fan base. They loved our aesthetic, our meaningful lyrics, our melodies and our accents.</p><p>Two years later, it was all too much, with only me on the synthesizer and PJ on the vocals and guitar, we were starting to get stressed every day in the studio; we needed another opinion, someone else. We had already gone on tour three times, and it was amazing but still tiring.</p><p>So, logically, we started auditions and our searching for a guitarist begun. And in that moment, Daniel Howell entered in my life.</p><p>UPDATES EVERY FRIDAY &lt;3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell &amp; Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Original Male Character(s), Dan Howell/Phil Lester, PJ Liguori/Sophie Newton, Phil Lester/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bloom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Dan's POV.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>"Daniel James Howell ohmygod ohmygod!" is the first thing I hear when I answer my phone. My lazy and half asleep body can process it’s Cat the one in the phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is it Cat? For fucks sake it's 7 AM. Let me sleep!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up and listen".</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I move on my bed and stretch, while yelling mentally to Cat </span>
  <em>
    <span>This better be that important.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know Bloom?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I roll my eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ofcourse I know Bloom, you know I'm obsessed with them." Every since I heard their song playing on the background of my favourite underground pub, I’ve been their fan number 1. Cat knows it. She’s been there for my fangirl attacks over the two members, PJ and Phil. PJ is the leader voice and also plays the guitar, so you could say he’s the leader, but, since I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>alternative and different, my favourite is Phil, the guy in the synthesizer, with his really chill vibe and maturity. I’ve been in 3 concerts of them, which means I’ve gone to all of their tours, but I’ve never actually met them as in person, just in the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," she giggles through the phone. "They are making auditions because they are searching for a guitarist".</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My whole body shakes and my face goes pale. This band means a lot to me. I've always been a fan, since day one, and knowing that I might have the opportunity to play guitar with them...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I mean, not gonna play it humble, I'm really good at guitar, and I know I have the attitude and confidence needed to be a rockstar, so I can say I have high hopes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Daaan, are you still listening?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, sorry. How do you know it anyways?" I ask curiously, I know she isn't a big fan like me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Their Instagram stories, you made me follow them. I couldn't sleep so I was scrolling through Instagram and I saw it and then I called you".</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I get out of bed and go to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok, I need to go now. I'll take a shower to wake up. Then I'll see their story to get more info," I pause for a second. "Than you, Cat"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No problem," says with a soft voice. "I love you," and then I hang up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>×</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a refreshing shower and a good breakfast, I sit on the sofa of my little apartment and dare to open my Instagram and search @bloomband. The profile picture where you can see the symbol of the band indicates that there is </span>
  <em>
    <span>effectively </span>
  </em>
  <span>a new Story. My hands shake and I open the little bubble.</span>
  <span> As I was expecting, their characteristic black background with a white grid on top of it appears, and a similar font to AHS’ one reads </span>
  <em>
    <span>“In search of expanding our music, we are looking for a new member to this band, specifically a guitarist. We need attitude and skills, so if you have both, follow the next steps.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In the following Story there's a couple of requirements like having more than 18 years and living close to London, which is perfect because I do. I scroll up since I meet the requirements, and register on the web. I have to send a demo covering one of their songs so they can verify I actually play guitar and I’m not a crazy fan only wanting to meet them. I attach an mp3 file that I already have recorded of my favourite song, and send it. It says they take one day to confirm if you can go to the official auditions that are in person and in London. So I lay my back on the sofa, and start daydreaming about my possible new life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>×</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time runs slower than ever and I get a notification on my Gmail from the bloom</span>
  <span>TM</span>
  <span> at 6 in the morning. I didn’t sleep at all so I’m awake when I get it. With my shaking hands I press to open it and start reading. When I get to the part where they confirm that I’ll be attending to the auditions, I jump on my bed and sit, still reading and laughing out loud with my body full of new and fresh euphoria. I then go the desk I have in my room and open my laptop. In a couple of minutes I already have a train ticket to go to London. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since the auditions start next monday, I still have a week to process this all new information and excitement. Even if I don’t get in, I’ll have the opportunity to perform in front of PJ and Phil and maybe have some kind of conversation. I have a lot of things to think about and my mind is going so fast I start getting dizzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I decide to go outside that night to calm my nerves, and though it helps for the night while I lie in some stranger’s bed, the next day when I wake up, and the next 7 days it’s all I think about, some say I become obsessed, but I’m OK, I just don’t want to mess up this opportunity and I’m going to fight for it. I also do a lot of research to make my guitar skills get even better and also go shopping and spend almost all my money on the outfit I’ll be wearing at the audition, because, well, first impressions last. For the whole week that’s all I do; Guitar, research and more guitar. I also try to exercise but I fail miserably at the  first attempt, and since it’s something I don’t really like, I give up. I don’t speak with anyone, don’t post anything on social media, ignore every call and message except family ones, and only sleep the necessary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I less expect it, the day to take the train arrives. I feel more prepared and half part of me wishes I had more time to practise, but the other just wants to finish the audition and get the dreamed job finally.  This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>the opportunity </span>
  </em>
  <span>of my life and I won't mess it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>×</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once I get to London I take the subway to go to my hotel. Once I’m there, I finish some details at the reception and then finally go to my room, a cheap one since I invested all my money on the outfit. I can smell something weird but decide to ignore it. The bathroom and bed seem clean enough so I don’t question it. I leave my only backpack at the chair besides the small desktop. All I bought with me was clothes, all my savings, my laptop, and obviously my phone and electric guitar. I check the mail the bloom</span>
  <span>TM</span>
  <span> sent me for the 1934083th time and make sure I got the hour right. I already printed my number and code that I have to stick to my shirt or somewhere visible with tape. According to the email all I have to do is go to the place around the time they gave me with my guitar, show the code and my ID at reception, and then wait until they call me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kindof get lost on my way to the place, but my friend Google Maps helps me not to get late, anc actually get there 15 minutes earlier. I do as said in the mail at the entry of the little theater, show my ID and code, the person at the entry checks everything is legit and then tells me to go where everyone else until I hear my code get called. My not-so-tall platform boots that have a couple of chains around them make a lot of noise while I walk to where all the contestants are. I decided to go for a light make-up, a black Muse shirt over a fishnet t-shirt, simple black cargo trousers, and I also changed my silver nose piercing for a black one. As for the make-up, I decided to use something light which means a little bit of highlighter and red eyeshadow around my eyes. My black guitar case, with different patches and pins and my favourite and only electric guitar inside lays on my shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sit on an empty chair besides a couple of groupies, and I say groupies because they’re wearing bloom’ merch, who would wear that to an audition in front of them? Well, apparently them. We end up making conversation for a couple minutes until one of them gets called and the other gets distracted on their phone. I decide to do the same, so I check my phone to distract my brain and not let it fuck things up, since I tend to do that a lot. People keep coming in and out of the actual stage doors, since we’re inside a pretty big waiting room. I bite my black nails as a nervous sign while scrolling through my Tumblr with the other hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person besides me leaves at some point and when they come out of the theater, they’re literally shaking. They sit in the same place again and I ask them how it went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was good!” They said, but their mood is still a little bit off. “I got too nervous and I fucked it up.” When I’m about to tell them something they smile at me and get up. “It’s OK though, I got to meet them.” I smile confused at that, aren’t they sad? I get lost in my thoughts and when I look up again, the person isn’t there anymore. Now</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a weird interaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m about to get myself distracted again but I hear my code getting called. I raise my hand and show the girl on the entry my code so she confirms I’m, well, me. I then proceed to walk from the door to the stage, which feels like a long agonizing experience, specially with the sound of the chains in my boots that sound louder than anything. I walk as fast as I can and miraculously I don’t end up on the floor and get to the actual stage. Some music technician runs at me and connects my guitar to the amplifier. When I turn around and see only two people sitting in two chairs, right in front of the stage. They each have a notebook on their legs and they are already writing something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck are they writing already?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  fucking PJ Liguori and fucking Phil Lester look at each other and then they both smile at me encouraging me to start playing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ok Dan, you can fangirl about this once you get to the hotel, after they tell you you are the next guitarist of Bloom</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but now focus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi, my name is Dan, I'm 23 and I'm the next guitarist of Bloom" I totally cringe before I say that, but they don’t seem bothered at all, so I gain confidence again. "You can start" says PJ.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I start playing one of their first songs. My fingers move naturally and I connect to the sound myself. I ignore them, and pretend I’m in my room. I move through the </span>
  <em>
    <span>stage</span>
  </em>
  <span> and improvise some riffs while now looking at them. I mix a couple of their songs, to prove them I know them and their music. They shift from writing to watching me, and when I finish, they smile again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how was it?” I ask, taking the couple of sweat drops I have on my face with my hand and smile, confident. Inside, I’m shaking and want to go and kiss them both, but for now I have to play cool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can’t say anything until we finish with all of them," says PJ, and I smile nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I can tell you for sure you did great,” adds Phil and my smile grows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay then, see you soon guys, I'm a big fan," I say before leaving the theater dancing with nothing else than my guitar in my shoulders and a satisfied look in my face. I really hope I get in.</span>
</p>
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